GUNSMOKE  Strength  Mannon After The Credits
by MarMar1
Summary: What was the aftermath, for Kitty, for Matt, of the brutal actions of the sociopath Will Mannon?


Mannon: After the Credits MM by MarMar1 Original Version "Strength"

April-May 2005

Disclaimer: The only part of "Gunsmoke" I own are my memories and the love I have for the characters and those who brought them to life. No infringement is intended and no profit will be made.

Author's Note: I completed this story before realizing I had made an error in continuity. I

Had written the story as if the episode "Hostage" had preceded the episode

"Mannon". I rewrote a few paragraphs in the middle of the story to correct

this, but I still preferred the original story draft. I retained both forms of

the story. This is the original. If continuity errors do not bother you, my

recommendation is to read this version, the other version is below.

"**Strength" by MarMar1 (original version)**

an After the Credits story for the episode "Mannon"

He saw her standing at the window, gazing out, as he left his back room. Leaving the door ajar as was his custom when monitoring a patient, Doc moved a few steps into his front room. The one low burning lantern did little more than highlight the shadows.

"Kitty," he waited for her to turn her attention in his direction. "How are you doing?" He thought he saw a way, almost.

"I'm fine." Kitty answered as she turned back to the window. "How is he?"

Doc knew, of course, that by 'he' she meant his patient in the back room; she meant Matt Dillon. He gave her an exasperated grunt.

"Oh, he's fine, too." Doc's acerbic reply came out a bit more harsh, more accusing than he intended. He shook his head slightly, brushing a hand across his mustache. Softening a bit he said, "He'll sleep awhile; I gave him a good dose a medicine to help insure that."

Kitty nodded slightly to acknowledge the information. Doc saw her raise her hand and reach toward the window pane. Then it stopped, as if she realized there was a barrier between her hand and its goal. He saw her hand return to clasp the front opening of her cape as her other arm held firmly across her body. It seemed to Doc that she was physically constraining herself. His heart ached for his dear friend, knowing more than any other what she had endured the last few days.

Doc moved closer to Kitty. He stirred the fire in the old stove and began the preparations to make a pot of coffee, hoping the simple, commonplace actions would work to ease the tension in the room. He set the pot on the stovetop and looked over at Kitty. His hopes dropped as he noticed she had not moved.

Straightening from his completed task, he hesitated only briefly before speaking. "Kitty," he started gently, "You have to tell him."

The clock atop his medical supply cabinet ticked, the sound filling the still room. Just when Doc thought she would not respond he heard her voice. It was quiet, firm, resigned.

"No."

Doc had expected it; years of experience with this remarkable woman had taught him to be prepared for a challenge. He turned and walked the few steps to his examination table thinking it best to put a bit more space between them. He ran his fingertips across the table, pulled at his ear, turned back in her direction.

"He asked me about it, Kitty. He'll keep asking."

At these words she fully turned to face him. Her face held a look of concern, overlaid with sadness. There was something more in her eyes, but Doc wasn't sure just what.

"What do you mean "He asked you.'?" She demanded in a low, controlled voice. "What did you say?"

"Kitty," Doc spoke with gentle concern, wanting to take a different tack with her. "Kitty, he watched you. As the men helped get him up here to the office, he watched you move away from Mannon's body and walk into the Long Branch." He tried to read her response, but saw only a small flicker of her eyes. "He's known you a long time, Kitty. You can't hide the way you move."

"It's nothing." Kitty dismissed the issue. "He asked me earlier. I told him I was simply tired from the stress of the past few days." Doc waited.

"I suppose he wasn't convinced, if he thought he had to ask me." He saw her shoulders straighten and tense. "He's worried about you." He walked to her and placed his hand on her arm in an effort to calm her. He understood the situation was not pleasant or easy, but he was confused by Kitty's attitude. She and Matt had been through tougher times and weathered them together. They were stronger together, he thought. Doc wondered why it was Kitty insisted on keeping this from Matt.

She pulled away from Doc's touch, from his gaze, turning again to the window and the dark street below. "There's no need for him to worry." Her voice was firm, but Doc thought he heard a crack.

"Talk to him," Doc pushed. He believed his two friends were closer than most couples, that they shared an uncommon trust, an inexplicable bond, and he wisely knew that what they had was a gift few ever experienced. He hated to think that an animal like Will Mannon could come along and damage that gift; that even in death he might be able to cause great pain to these people Doc held so dear.

"No," her reply was softer, yet still firm.

"Kitty," Doc began, unsure how to reach her.

"I can't, Doc." Her voice was flat as she interrupted his plea. "I can't risk that." She kept her back to him, to the room. Doc shook his head again, as if trying to clear his thoughts. He was surprised by her words.

"Risk? Kitty, Matt will.."

Again she spoke before Doc could finish his thought. "It's so completely against what Matt believes." She turned to face him. "It is so totally contrary to all that he is, for his actions to put anyone at risk; to endanger someone he cares about." She closed her eyes as if to avoid seeing that of which she spoke. "I'm a coward."

"Kitty," he tried again.

"You remember, Doc, before." She opened her gentle, blue eyes, allowing Doc to see the pain. "You remember the Dog Soldiers. Bonner." There was no question in her words. "You saw what that did."

"I know," Doc longed to comfort this woman who commanded such reign over his heart. He felt she was suffering needlessly alone.

"Do you, Doc? Do you know?" She challenged him. Her eyes and her voice took on an intensity of spirit. "Do you really know it damn near killed him? You know what he…" Kitty hesitated; she shuddered with the intake of a breath. "You know what he wanted; what he nearly did."

Doc could only nod, averting his eyes, remembering his own urging of Matt to keep his badge, to hold on to the law, to use it. He remembered his own lack of conviction in his argument; he remembered wanting to do himself just what he had known Matt intended to do.

"For all that Matt believes, has always argued, that his job, that badge, carry too much risk and leave no place for… for permanence… no place for me, it's been fourteen years and we're still here." She spoke softly, almost with a sense of wonder, her eyes capturing Doc's and holding them hostage. Doc began to understand. She had called herself a coward and Doc had thought she feared what Matt would think if he knew the things Mannon had done to her. That Matt might somehow think less of her if he knew. He began to realize her fear ran to much deeper concerns.

"I can't begin to know what it is, to want something and to know that even the mere wanting is enough to create a dreadful danger. I can't fathom the terrible strength it must take to keep those warring sides from tearing him apart. Then to have that danger played out in a very real way…"

Doc saw the pain, the fear, and the tears in her eyes before she once again turned to the dark window and his heart cried for her.

"I can't add to that, Doc. I can't ask him to take more than he has already." She bowed her head and for a moment Doc felt as if her were intruding on her private agony. Then she lifted her chin and turned her face, looking over her shoulder to Doc. "I'm weak and I'm selfish and I'm scared," she seemed ashamed of the thoughts she was sharing. "I just can't risk pushing his strength beyond its limits."

And finally Doc understood. She knew she need not fear how Matt would react to her as a woman. Her fear was that knowing would cause his burden of guilt and responsibility to become more than he could bear. Her fear was that Matt would have to make a choice and that the choice would cost her the place she held in his life. That to protect her, he would send her away. And Doc realized that as much as these two people needed each other, belonged to each other, her fear was not unreasonable.

"What would you do, if he asked you to leave?" Doc dared to name the fear, to open it to the light of examination.

He saw her body sag, sapped of all strength. Her hands gripped either side of the window frame as if to hold herself up.

"Then I would leave," despair colored her voice. She looked back at Doc over her shoulder. "It would kill me, but I would go."

Doc saw the truth in her eyes and the tears like liquid diamonds that escaped to slip down her cheek and he knew that this woman, this amazing woman who called herself weak and scared and selfish, would sacrifice all that she cherished, for the man she loved. He wondered if Matt had even the slightest idea just how extraordinarily blessed he was to have her. He realized that, as wrong as it seemed, Kitty might be right in her choice not to tell Matt everything that had occurred during Will Mannon's terrorism of Dodge City. Once again his heart ached, knowing how alone she must feel, having to carry that burden alone.

Kitty had searched deep inside and tapped her inner reserve of fortitude. She straightened and prepared to leave. It was nearly dawn and the strain of the night was showing. As she reached for the door handle, Doc spoke.

"If you need anything; if you want to talk…" He offered, wanting to reach out, to ease the way for her. "I'm always here."

"Thanks, Curley. I know." The use of her loving nickname for him served to remind them each of the strong ties they shared and the support it offered. And with a sad, grateful smile, Kitty opened the door and walked out.

Doc slowly moved to the window and watched in the dawning light as his beloved friend descended his stairway and headed home. He felt the pain of helplessness, the sadness of loss, and a pride that nearly burst his heart. As he saw her reach the plateau of her own stairway and enter through the door, the thought struck him that she may be heading to her rooms, but that her home was here, asleep in his back room.

In the dark back room, Matt Dillon had struggled against sleep. He had known that Kitty still waited in Doc's outer room and he expected she and Doc would talk. Matt had desperately needed to know the answers to his questions and so he had shamelessly listened, straining to hear their quiet words.

Now, as he heard the outer door close and Kitty's footsteps on the stairs he wanted nothing more than to fly from Doc's prison and go to her. He longed to take her in his arms, to hold her, protect her, to love her and shield her always from hurt. He wanted to share the burden he now knew she hid from him. Even as Doc's powders fogged his thoughts, Matt understood the irony of it, that his very need to shield her had created her need to close a part of herself to him.

Kitty Russell was the most incredible woman Matt had ever known and as he drifted deeper into sleep, he wondered that she could consider herself weak or cowardly. There was no one greater, stronger, more loving or gentle than this woman who held his heart and he knew that while he longed to protect her, for years they had stood side by side to face the world. Matt doubted he would ever be able to do what Kitty so feared. His love for her was beyond anything he had ever imagined possible and he could no more send her away than he could sever his own right arm. He vowed to himself that he would do all he could to ease Kitty's heart. He would tell her, he would show her. He needed her.

He thought of the breathtaking combination of beauty and strength that was Kitty. As he succumbed to the magic of Doc's medicines, a tear for her pain trickled down to mingle with the edge of a smile brought on by the vision of her he held in his mind. She was his love and his life. She was his greatest strength.

THE END

NOTES:

Ed Spencer – character from "The Brothers" 1966 episode (not 1972). I made up the last name as I did not have access to the episode for reference as of this writing.

Mace Gore – "Seven Hours To Dawn"

Cornelia Conrad – character from "Reprisal" 1962 episode (not 1969).

Etta Stone – "The Jailer"

Mannon: After the Credits MM by MarMar1 **Revised Version for continuity "Strength"**

April-May 2005

Disclaimer: The only part of "Gunsmoke" I own are my memories and the love I have for the characters and those who brought them to life. No infringement is intended and no profit will be made.

Author's Note: I completed this story before realizing I had made an error in continuity. I

had written the story as if the episode "Hostage" had preceded the episode

"Mannon". I rewrote a few paragraphs in the middle of the story to correct

this, but I still preferred the original story draft. I retained both forms of

the story. This is the revised version, the one without the continuity error.

If such errors do not bother you, I recommend reading the Original

Version.

"**Strength" by MarMar1 (revised version)**

an After the Credits story for the episode "Mannon"

He saw her standing at the window, gazing out, as he left his back room. Leaving the door ajar as was his custom when monitoring a patient, Doc Adams moved a few steps into his front room. The one low burning lantern did little more than highlight the shadows.

"Kitty," he waited for her to turn her attention in his direction. "How are you doing?" He thought he saw a way, almost.

"I'm fine." Kitty answered as she turned back to the window. "How is he?"

Doc knew, of course, that by 'he' she meant his patient in the back room; she meant Matt Dillon. He gave her an exasperated grunt.

"Oh, he's fine, too." Doc's acerbic reply came out a bit more harsh, more accusing than he intended. He shook his head slightly, brushing a hand across his mustache. Softening a bit he said, "He'll sleep awhile; I gave him a good dose a medicine to help insure that."

Kitty nodded slightly to acknowledge the information. Doc saw her raise her hand and reach toward the window pane. Then it stopped, as if she realized there was a barrier between her hand and its goal. He saw her hand return to clasp the front opening of her cape as her other arm held firmly across her body. It seemed to Doc that she was physically constraining herself. His heart ached for his dear friend, knowing more than any other what she had endured the last few days.

Doc moved closer to Kitty. He stirred the fire in the old stove and began the preparations to make a pot of coffee, hoping the simple, commonplace actions would work to ease the tension in the room. He set the pot on the stovetop and looked over at Kitty. His hopes dropped as he noticed she had not moved.

Straightening from his completed task, he hesitated only briefly before speaking. "Kitty," he started gently, "You have to tell him."

The clock atop his medical supply cabinet ticked, the sound filling the still room. Just when Doc thought she would not respond he heard her voice. It was quiet, firm, resigned.

"No."

Doc had expected it; years of experience with this remarkable woman had taught him to be prepared for a challenge. He turned and walked the few steps to his examination table thinking it best to put a bit more space between them. He ran his fingertips across the table, pulled at his ear, turned back in her direction.

"He asked me about it, Kitty. He'll keep asking."

At these words she fully turned to face him. Her face held a look of concern, overlaid with sadness. There was something more in her eyes, but Doc wasn't sure just what.

"What do you mean "He asked you.'?" She demanded in a low, controlled voice. "What did you say?"

"Kitty," Doc spoke with gentle concern, wanting to take a different tack with her. "Kitty, he watched you. As the men helped get him up here to the office, he watched you move away from Mannon's body and walk into the Long Branch." He tried to read her response, but saw only a small flicker of her eyes. "He's known you a long time, Kitty. You can't hide the way you move."

"It's nothing." Kitty dismissed the issue. "He asked me earlier. I told him I was simply tired from the stress of the past few days." Doc waited.

"I suppose he wasn't convinced, if he thought he had to ask me." He saw her shoulders straighten and tense. "He's worried about you." He walked to her and placed his hand on her arm in an effort to calm her. He understood the situation was not pleasant or easy, but he was confused by Kitty's attitude. She and Matt had been through tougher times and weathered them together. They were stronger together, he thought. Doc wondered why it was Kitty insisted on keeping this from Matt.

She pulled away from Doc's touch, from his gaze, turning again to the window and the dark street below. "There's no need for him to worry." Her voice was firm, but Doc thought he heard a crack.

"Talk to him," Doc pushed. He believed his two friends were closer than most couples, that they shared an uncommon trust, an inexplicable bond, and he wisely knew that what they had was a gift few ever experienced. He hated to think that an animal like Will Mannon could come along and damage that gift; that even in death he might be able to cause great pain to these people Doc held so dear.

"No," her reply was softer, yet still firm.

"Kitty," Doc began, unsure how to reach her.

"I can't, Doc." Her voice was flat as she interrupted his plea. "I can't risk that." She kept her back to him, to the room. Doc shook his head again, as if trying to clear his thoughts. He was surprised by her words.

"Risk? Kitty, Matt will.."

Again she spoke before Doc could finish his thought. "It's so completely against what Matt believes." She turned to face him. "It is so totally contrary to all that he is, for his actions to put anyone at risk; to endanger someone he cares about." She closed her eyes as if to avoid seeing that of which she spoke. "I'm a coward."

"Kitty," he tried again.

"Doc, do you remember Ed Spencer?" Kitty looked at Doc, her face sad.

He thought a moment before nodding. Yes, he remembered the man's attempts to gain his brother's release from jail and his threats to Matt and those close to him.

"You remember Mace Gore? "

Again Doc nodded. He would never forget the agony of those hours, waiting for dawn, praying that Matt would survive, his heart aching for Kitty, too much in shock to morn.

"And how about Cornelia Conrad or that crazy Etta Stone and her boys?"

She opened her gentle, blue eyes, allowing Doc to see the pain. "You remember them." There was no question in her words. "You saw, every time, your saw what it did."

"I know," Doc longed to comfort this woman who commanded such reign over his heart. He felt she was suffering needlessly alone.

"Do you, Doc? Do you know?" She challenged him. Her eyes and her voice took on an intensity of spirit. "Do you really know how it damn near kills him? Do you know how he blames himself? How he dreads the next time?" Kitty hesitated, shuddering with the intake of breath. "Do you know what it costs him?"

Doc could only nod, averting his eyes, remembering his own sessions with Matt in the aftermath of the madmen, and women, who over the years had tried to get to Matt through those who were close to him.

"For all that Matt believes, has always argued, that his job, that badge, carry too much risk and leave no place for… for permanence… no place for me, it's been fourteen years and we're still here." She spoke softly, almost with a sense of wonder, her eyes capturing Doc's and holding them hostage. Doc began to understand. She had called herself a coward and Doc had thought she feared what Matt would think if he knew the things Mannon had done to her. That Matt might somehow think less of her if he knew. He began to realize her fear sprang from much deeper concerns.

"I can't begin to know what it is, to want something and to know that even the mere wanting is enough to create a dreadful danger. I can't fathom the terrible strength it must take to keep those warring sides from tearing him apart. Then, to have that danger played out in a very real way…"

Doc saw the pain, the fear, and the tears in her eyes before she once again turned to the dark window and his heart cried for her.

"I can't add to that, Doc. I can't ask him to bear more than he has already." She bowed her head and for a moment Doc felt as if he were intruding on her private agony. Then she lifted her chin and turned her face, looking over her shoulder to Doc. "I'm weak and I'm selfish and I'm scared," she seemed ashamed of the thoughts she was sharing. "I just can't risk pushing his strength beyond its limits."

And finally Doc understood. She knew she need not fear how Matt would react to her as a woman. Her fear was that knowing would cause his burden of guilt and responsibility to become more than he could handle. Her fear was that Matt would have to make a choice and that the choice would cost her the place she held in his life. That to protect her, he would send her away. And Doc realized that as much as these two people needed each other, belonged to each other, her fear was not unreasonable.

"What would you do, if he asked you to leave?" Doc dared to name the fear, to open it to the light of examination.

He saw her body sag, sapped of all strength. Her hands gripped either side of the window frame as if to hold herself up.

"Then I would leave," despair colored her voice. She looked back at Doc. "It would kill me, but I would go."

Doc saw the truth in her eyes and the tears like liquid diamonds that escaped to slip down her cheek and he knew that this woman, this amazing woman who called herself weak and scared and selfish, would sacrifice all that she cherished, for the man she loved. He wondered if Matt had even the slightest idea just how extraordinarily blessed he was to have her. He realized that, as wrong as it seemed, Kitty might be right in her choice not to tell Matt everything that had occurred during Will Mannon's terrorism of Dodge City. Once again his heart ached, knowing how alone she must feel, having to carry that burden, unable to share it with the one person who could help her the most, the one man who should be there to help her as she reclaimed her sense of self, of power, safety, and equilibrium.

Kitty had searched deep inside and tapped her inner reserve of fortitude. She straightened and prepared to leave. It was nearly dawn and the strain of the night was showing. As she reached for the door handle, Doc spoke.

"If you need anything; if you want to talk…" He offered, wanting to reach out, to ease the way for her. "I'm always here."

She looked once more over her shoulder toward him for a long moment, then gave a small nod.

"Thanks, Curley. I know." The use of her loving nickname for him served to remind them each of the strong ties they shared and the support it offered. And with a small, sad, grateful smile, Kitty Russell opened the door and walked out.

Doc slowly moved to the window and watched in the dawning light as his beloved friend descended his stairway and headed home. He felt the pain of helplessness, the sadness of loss, and a pride that nearly burst his heart. As he saw her reach the plateau of her own stairway and enter through the door, the thought struck him that she may be heading to her rooms, but that her home was here, asleep in his back room.

In the dark back room, Matt Dillon had struggled valiantly against sleep. He had known that Kitty still waited in Doc's outer room and he expected she and Doc would talk. Matt had desperately needed to know the answers to his questions and so he had shamelessly listened, straining to hear their quiet words.

Now, as he heard the outer door close and Kitty's footsteps on the stairs he wanted nothing more than to fly from Doc's prison and go to her. He longed to take her in his arms, to hold her, protect her, to love her and shield her always from hurt. He wanted to share the burden he now knew she hid from him. Even as Doc's powders fogged his thoughts, Matt understood the irony of it; that his very need to shield her had created her need to close off to him a part of herself.

Kitty Russell was the most incredible woman Matt had ever known and as he drifted deeper into sleep, he wondered that she could consider herself weak or cowardly. There was no one greater, stronger, more loving or gentle than this woman who held his heart and he knew that while he longed to protect her, for years they had stood side by side to face the world. Matt doubted he would ever be able to do what Kitty so feared. His love for her was beyond anything he had ever imagined possible and he could no more send her away than he could sever his own right arm. He vowed to himself that he would do all he could to ease Kitty's heart. He would tell her, he would show her. He knew in the depths of his soul that he needed her.

He thought of the breathtaking combination of beauty and strength that was Kitty. As he succumbed to the magic of Doc's medicines, a tear for her pain trickled down to mingle with the edge of a smile brought on by the vision of her he held in his mind. She was his love and his life. She was his greatest strength.

THE END

NOTES:

Ed Spencer – character from "The Brothers" 1966 episode (not 1972). I made up the last name as I did not have access to the episode for reference as of this writing.

Mace Gore – "Seven Hours To Dawn"

Cornelia Conrad – character from "Reprisal" 1962 episode (not 1969).

Etta Stone – "The Jailer"


End file.
